


Gazing Across (The Wasted Years)

by SilverBird13



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: ALL THE SADROUSAL, Brick!Sass Appreciation, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, I think?, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Really sad and fluffy, Roleplay, Some Ageplay, The only time Javert wants to be called "Papa", sadrousal, top!Javert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBird13/pseuds/SilverBird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, at least it wasn’t ‘Cosette’, for God’s sake, man!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gazing Across (The Wasted Years)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kinkmeme prompt: "J/VJ: One accidentally calls the other 'Papa' during sex."  
> I'm so sorry it's later than I expected!

“Oh, Papa!  _Yes_!”  
  
Javert was certain he had misheard the man atop him at first due to the stormy weather outside (though, buried to the hilt in Valjean, it took him a few moments to care).  
  
“Valjean,” he said a few moments later as he inhaled his cigarette, listening to the rain and blowing the smoke out before reaching to whisper softly into the man’s ear, “why did you call me that?”   
  
“Ah,” was all Valjean could manage, though from the way he buried his flushed face into his hands, it wasn’t all he was thinking.  Javert merely inhaled again, thankful the man wasn't trying to lie it away for once. He tapped the excess ash into a nearby tray calmly as Valjean beside him lay back against the pillows, notably less tactile than usual.   
  
 “I never knew him,”  he said quietly, fiddling with the edge of the sheet, “though my-my sister spoke highly of him.  ‘Not a man to drink or dally’ were her words, if I remember correctly.”  At Javert’s rather unimpressed look at this information, he shakily added, “I am sorry, _mon cher_.  I did not mean to offend you.”  
  
Javert snorted, snubbing out his cigarette and laying an arm around Valjean’s shoulders.  “Well, at least it wasn’t ‘Cosette’, for God’s sake, man!  Now,” he added huskily, “are we set and done with that business?”  
  
A harsh crack of thunder from outside, followed by a white head buried under his chin and a wetness on his chest confirmed Javert’s suspicions that the topic would not die mercifully anytime soon.  
  
“Well, do you want to try that then, Jean?” Javert asked bluntly, sighing. “God knows, I hold no affection for my own father, but if it will help get you out of your past reflections a damn murderer doesn’t deserve, I’ll gladly do it!”  
  
Valjean’s head perked up at that, and Javert studied his flushed cheeks and swollen lips in the candlelight, feeling the man harden on his thigh.  
  
Perhaps this little experiment wouldn’t prove to be a bad idea.  
  
******  
  
“Oh, Papa!”  Valjean cried, wriggling deeper into the sheets as Javert laved the skin of his torso with a slick, firm tongue and smiled against the man’s belly.  
  
“I could deny you nothing, my Jean,” Javert said with a sharp yet appraising grin, lifting his head and moving to sit behind the man, holding Valjean’s body between his legs and reaching around his waist to grasp him.  
  
“Papa is going to show you how to touch your cock,” he said, leaning his chin on the man’s scarred shoulder, “Would you like that, _mon petit_?”  
  
“Y-yes!”  Valjean whimpered, pressing backwards into Javert’s lap as the man began to rub his thumb against his tip.  Javert moaned as well, Valjean’s movements causing his own cock to grind into the man’s skin.  He pressed a kiss to the man’s neck before continuing.  
  
“You start off slow so you can slick your cock, like this,” Javert said, punctuating his instructions with long, slow strokes.  “Then, naughty Jean, you’d grip yourself at the base-watch me, now-and you stroke up and down,”  he told the man, taking his hand off Valjean’s cock and guiding the man’s own over to grasp himself.  
  
“Are you picturing me while you’re touching yourself?” Javert growled against Valjean’s neck, watching hungrily as the man followed his teachings to perfection.  
  
“Oh, oh yes,” Valjean whimpered, stroking faster as Javert looked on proudly, his arms wrapped securely around the man’s wide torso.  
  
Valjean let out a high, keening whine then. “P-Please, Papa,” he fairly begged, one hand covering his mouth as he rocked back and forth into Javert’s belly, “ _please_ , help me.”  
  
“Of course, _mon petit._ Papa would love to help his darling boy," Javert whispered, gently prying Valjean's hand away and replacing it again with his own.

 

"Please, Papa!  I _need_ you!" Valjean whined like a spoiled child as Javert pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to his neck and began to stroke, firmly and deftly, bringing Valjean quickly to climax.

  
Javert let Valjean's pleased cries cease before he loosened his grip on the man and gently turned him around to face him, smiling warmly even as the fire swelled nearly to bursing in his belly at the sight of the debauched man.

  
“N-Now, my Jean, do the same for Papa,” he ordered as calmly as he could as he eyed Valjean’s flushed skin, his heaving chest.  
  
Valjean merely nodded, seating himself cross-legged on the bed and reaching over to apply the same messy technique he’d used on himself to Javert’s cock.  It took only a few strokes, and Javert was coming hot and wet into Valjean’s hand.  
  
Javert lay back against the headboard, aimlessly petting Valjean’s head as the man lay back as well, inspecting the liquid coating his fingers and raising them to his lips.  
  
“It tastes strange, Papa,” he murmured, “Javert’s never tastes strange.”  
  
Javert closed his eyes and let the man fall weeping again into his arms, praying to Valjean’s God that he was better loved than one who neither drank nor dallied.


End file.
